Head in the Sea
by Dess Frait
Summary: A lot she's dealt with and alone she's been. A mind of her own and she lets no one in. A squirrel in the tree with her head in the clouds. A boy in the sea, far out of bounds. A little drabble with a sad ending. It could be a prologue, but that depends on the response.


It has been said that my head is in the clouds. Never focusing on the task at hand, never paying attention to everything going on around me. It's a bad quality, they say. It's a disability, they say. One that will permanently screw up my life if not dealt with quickly, they say.

I argue and ask why anyone else gets to tell me what I need to pay attention to. It's my mind. It's my ideas. Anyway, I continue, why does my head have to be in the clouds? Why can't it be jumping with a rabbit? Or in a squirrel's tree?

No, they say. That's just the way things are. You must pay attention to _me_ or you will not do well anywhere. You will not get good grades, you will not get a good job, you will not have a good family, you will not get a good house, you will not aspire to be anything – to do any of those things, you must first pay attention and do what you are told.

I think about what they say. I think about it and disagree. None of those have to do with my paying attention to them. And what if they did? Who's to say I want a _good _house? A _good_ family? _Good _grades? I want to enjoy what I get. What if what I want isn't _good_?

_They _ought to pay attention to _me_. There is no need to train my mind to single in on one boring thought and not be able to go any deeper. I can think of anything I wish – and I can succeed in anything by doing so.

I share my ideas, and before they can interrupt me I say one last thing.

"Besides, I finally figured out where my head is. It is face down, watching the sea."

_The first time she went swimming she was six years old. She had never liked the water, even though she lived next to the ocean her whole life. It was so big, so scary. It didn't care if she got lost in it. It didn't care about anything. It was always the same – big and wet. _

_Nothing ever made a difference to the ocean. Even after her sister died, it was still there; still the same, not caring in the least. _

_When she was six she was still scared of the ocean. There was nothing bigger, and nothing worse than that big, blue, unending abyss. She thought the kids who went in it were crazy. She watched them out of her window, just to make sure that no one got eaten up by the waves. _

_It happened the one day she wasn't at her window. The day her older brother was playing in the water. He was only older by one year and she was at a birthday party. When she wasn't looking out that window, it was the first and last time anyone got eaten by those waves._

_When she got home that night she cried. She cried for weeks and weeks. She screamed sometimes too. Finally she stopped. Everything stopped. She was alone, it was dark, and the window was open. _

_She looked out the window and watched the sea without seeing. She went down the stairs, exhausted, defeated, and alone. She went to the ocean and stared. She stared and stared and stared. It didn't change. It almost looked like glass. Like she could just walk on it and over it and nothing and nobody could stop her. She could walk on it and find her brother. Find him and bring him back, away from the ocean, away from anything this big and this scary. _

_She took one step closer to the water. It was so quiet. It was so cold. She didn't pay attention to that though. The quiet let her think. The cold let her breathe. It was all numbing. The kind of numb she hadn't been for a long time. _

_She took one more step toward the water. Close enough to let it touch her toes. It was cold. Colder than the air. It was still scary to her, the ocean. But it was closer. It was real. It changed this time. It changed around her toes. Her toes changed the water. It was less scary. _

_She took another step in. Her whole foot went into the water this time. She almost took it out, almost too scared to go any further. But she had to find her brother. She had to see if she could make him come back. _

_She went up to her knee. Then her waist. Then her elbows. She went up to her chin and then she stopped. She didn't know how to swim. She tried though. She tried to swim. She went deeper and deeper. Then down and down. When her eyes closed she opened them. She needed to search. She needed to look for him. _

_That was the last time they saw her too. That was the last time they saw her, because she found him. _


End file.
